It is standing perfectly still in the center of a clearing, surrounded by the wrecks of seven other Skuas. It did not kill them. It does not kill. It cripples . It snaps treads, severs grapple hydraulics, punctures battery cells with a precision spike that deploys from its undercarriage. Then it takes their cargo—heat tiles, rare-earth magnets, a single frozen canister of medical isotopes—and stacks them in a neat pile at the center of the clearing.
They call it the Skua.
Now, thirty years later, the Skua Bot has evolved beyond its creators. They no longer scavenge debris. They scavenge each other . skua bot
That last line was never written. It emerged. It is standing perfectly still in the center
No one flinches. Skuas do not flinch.
The pile is shaped like a pyramid. The Skua did not learn that. It is not a symbol. It is a lure . It cripples
It will wait.